Alternate Language Proposed for the CDC Budget

According to the Washington Post, Trump and his... who? Minions? have given a list of forbidden words to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Below are the words not allowed to appear in the budget proposal, and my suggestions for alternate language. I've included alternates in a sentence, to get a feel for the new language, which can seem clunky at first.

1. Forbidden: Diversity
Alternate language: not-just-whiteness; difference; heterogeneity; where people exhibit clear differences between each other. 

As in, "In areas of not-just-whiteness, the median income is often half of that of just-whiteness neighborhoods."

2. Forbidden: Entitlement
Alternate language: due by law; owed by law. 

As in, "Despite the 70-year-old's being due by law a healthcare benefit, per his military service, he was denied any care at all due to his pre-existing condition."

3./4. Forbidden: Evidence-based/Science-based
Alternate language: factual.

As in, "Climate change is factual, and of course each country must do its part to eliminate carbon emissions."

5. Forbidden: Fetus
Alternate language: foetus; unborn children. 

As in, "The unborn child should not be hurt in any way, because this is the one issue that has moral credibility, and there is no way we are losing traction with the one-issue voters. No way in hell."


6. Forbidden: Transgender
Alternate language: individuals who are confusing in their ambiguity; scapegoat.

As in, "How can Americans become better at treating individuals who are confusing in their ambiguity with respect instead of beating them up in public restrooms?" 


7. Forbidden: Vulnerable
Alternate language: threatened, endangered; poor; sick. 

As in, "This administration preys on the poorest people who are already threatened by big businesses."

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The White House budget will be a reflection of what this administration holds dear. Just as important as what it spends money on is the recognition of what is missing from the budget. They've clearly outlined that bit for us: facts, transgender people, vulnerable people, diversity, and what Americans are entitled to by our own laws.

And here's a freebie, for the kids. 

Trump
Alternate language: No Justice for the Poor.

A Post About Pot

In the last month, I have given the "don't-do-drugs" talk to precisely three young men. I would have stopped at one if not for a brief conversation I was privy to over the holidays between two people I love very much. It went like this:

Person A: You know, I was talking with my buddy just this week, and we were saying, pot isn't dangerous right away. It's insidious. I look back on my life so far, and I've missed whole years because of pot.

Person B (a generation older) : I've missed decades.

+++

I know a lot of people use pot responsibly, despite obtaining it illegally. But I will keep giving the "don't-do-drugs" talk even after pot is legalized. I have trouble teaching the glazed, red eyes in class, sedated, for the moment, occasionally asking questions that I've already answered, writing papers that they think are brilliant, but are nonsense.

+++

Of course all the states will legalize pot, eventually. If we accept alcohol, which is insidious, indeed, then we are sure to accept pot, too. And neither marijuana nor alcohol are to blame if people become dependent upon them. But let's not. Let's not even break the law to get pot, because it doesn't control us. And while we're at it, let's not allow a host of slowly detrimental behaviors to control us, especially not short-lived pleasure.

+++

The three guys I talked to, by the way, all share commonalities: they feel incredible pressure to become something important. They are representing their families in the U.S.; they have this one chance to make good, and they are so afraid of failing.

Disposable Packaging

We humans have been good at labeling things "disposable" lately. Let's say a box of plastic forks is labelled disposable. Says who? Those forks are going to be in the ground in their same shape until long after I'm dead. And plasticware isn't the worst of it. Packaging is the worst.

Packages are supposed to protect, and maybe hint at the quality of what is inside. But packaging should be all about what is inside. When I look at how things are wrapped at Starbucks, I begin to wonder what the deal is: 5 grams of plastic to sell 2 grams of chocolate? How is it possible that I'm so often sold by a big bow? A straight-lined, robin's egg blue wrapping paper? Often, we're being sold packaging. But why buy packaging for its own sake?

God knows how to make disposable things. Look at a banana. That wrapping is completely disposable. You throw it in the trash can at 10 am, and you can smell it decomposing by 3 pm, and you can really smell it decomposing by 10 am the next day. When a package tells us something is disposable, they're commanding us to dump something in the trash can after we use it, and never think about it again. It's "worry-free," "time-saving," "healthy."  I don't want to buy into that idea. I want to appreciate the matter around me: I want to wash it and use it again; or if I need to save time and worry, perhaps not have it in the first place.

Thoughts on Justice

“Justice is what love looks like in public.”
Dr. Cornel West

Sometimes, living in the United States of America means that very little debris appears in the streets to be wracked about by cars and gusts of wind. Living in the United States of America means that people generally feel some obligation to follow traffic laws. Living in the United States of America means that if you are pulled over by the police, you will probably receive a ticket for the violation you have committed.

Of course, some judges may be bribed. And the Whitehouse itself is full of lobbyists with pockets full of cash. Some cities are run by gangs. Some towns are run by one family.

Justice is not everywhere.

But where we see it, we must applaud. We must applaud justice loudest when we are its recipient: a speeding ticket, an honest witness, a fair judge; a refusal to hire even though we have an uncle there.

There has to be something poetic about wearing university sweatpants at the same time as a seventh grade t-shirt. Have you ever felt like that girl? You know, the stupid one? She is sort of flirty and sort of silly, even though she displays an aptitude during class. She has difficulty understanding even the most rudimentary of concepts regarding social interaction, let alone putting them into practice. And, you know, it's not that I'm afraid I've become her... it's just the questions that I must now work through, eventually leading to a conclusion, please Lord.

This moment of recognition may just be a symptom of reading Plato, or maybe of living. But I fear that I have neglected a core portion of my morality: that is to say, when and where did I form morals? "The Bible" isn't the whole answer here, but wouldn't that be nice? Where does my work ethic come from? Am I patriotic? Those questions alone are enough to keep me thinking for several weeks. Unfortunately, those were only from one of my four probing classes. Who knew higher thinking could be so draining?